The Runestones
by Qellaswe
Summary: ON HIATUS. See Profile. After being attacked and fatally wounded, Harry rashly wishes he could go back in time and change some things. His wish granted, he finds that some things can't be changed. To cope, Harry takes up a new hobby. Het and Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Runestones  
Author: Qellaswe  
Pairings: brief HP/GW, HP/?, brief RL/NT, RW/HG  
Warnings: character death, brief mentions of slash  
Spoilers: THROUGH DEATHLY HALLOWS! Even the epilogue, much as I didn't like it.  
Summary: After being attacked and fatally wounded, Harry rashly wishes he could go back in time and change some things. When his wish is granted, he finds that some things can't be changed. To cope with them, Harry takes up a new hobby.

AN: I usually don't read stories where Harry's sent back in time to live his life over (I like them when he's in a different time period). However, this plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. This one may take a while to complete, but I won't let it die.

* * *

the runestones, 1/?

_The cement chilled his back as he lay there, feeling the blood pouring from his wound. It was ironic that he was in this position, having watched a man die like this twenty years ago._

_He'd only been meant to serve a writ, then report back to headquarters and head home. Well, not home anymore, without the children there during the school year. But it had been the only home available to him without having to become a teacher, and others had wanted him to become an Auror. Instead, he'd apparated into a true den of thieves - Muggles who had an idea of the wizarding world and squibs who'd been tossed from their families. They had overwhelmed him with their numbers, taken everything of value from him, and finally slashing his throat with the largest dagger he'd ever seen._

_The footsteps had faded a long time ago, and Harry was surprised he wasn't dead yet. His magic was running low, trying so desperately to fix the wound. He knew it wouldn't be enough._

_Regrets and wishes flashed through his mind. As his legs and arms began to go numb, he idly wondered why his entire life wasn't flashing before his eyes. He'd always heard about stories that you did. Of course, he'd been the exception to every rule of magic, so why was this any different?_

_His breathing beginning to labor, Harry struggled to reach out to the one thing the thieves had left. The cool stone was a comforting weight on his chest, but he wanted it in his hands despite the lack of feeling in them. Al had found it on his first trip to Hogsmeade the weekend before, and had sent it home with his weekly letter. Ginny had almost thrown it away, but Harry had kept it._

_The stone partially wrapped in loose, cold fingers, Harry looked at the runes etched into the flat surface. He had meant to figure out what runes they were, but hadn't yet had the chance. Now he would never know._

_For once, Harry thought, he wished he could go back and do this all over again. He wanted to figure out the things he had needed to do, without losing so many people. There were people he wanted his children and godchild (who was much as his child as his natural ones) to have met - _lived with _- that he missed himself._

_The numbing stretched up his chest, and he had time for one last thought. He would miss his children._

******

"Harry? Harry, are you okay?"

He blinked at the sound of the voice, wondering if someone had actually discovered him in time to keep him from dying.

"Oh, Merlin," the voice continued, "Should I send a signal for the professors?"

Harry's eyes flew open at the oddness of that statement, only to find himself looking into a pair of grey eyes that had haunted him for years. He'd had nightmares about meeting Cedric, about trying to explain that he hadn't wanted him dead, that he hadn't realized the cup was a portkey.

"Harry?"

He blinked and looked at his surroundings. It wasn't the maze, but it was definitely springtime. He could smell the grass under his feet, and there was the scent of apple blossoms blowing from Professor Sprout's orchards.

"Cedric?" Merlin, but he'd forgotten how his voice had cracked when he was fourteen. Wait, fourteen? What in the world was happening to him? The last he knew, he'd been dying on the floor of an abandoned warehouse in London.

He started to shake, shock rolling its waves throughout his body. Dimly, he heard Cedric asking if he was okay, but there was no possible way for Harry to answer him at the moment. He really thought he had been dying for the third time, and he'd been prepared to go through with it. Was he dreaming? Was this in punishment for his regrets?

He was suddenly back in the dorm, although he didn't remember getting here. He barely recalled Cedric - and how strange was it to say that - offering to take him up to the tower. He wasn't entirely sure that he'd consented, but had the feeling the Hufflepuff had done so anyway. If he remembered correctly, Harry knew that this was also James' bed. A quiver ran through him at the thought of his son - indeed, at all of his children. He missed them so much; it was like something had pierced his heart. The cruel thought of having to go through all of the trouble with Ginny to see them again ran through his head.

A flash of light caught his eye, and he turned to find himself looking at Fawkes. The phoenix eyed him before letting off a soft trill. To Harry, it sounded like the bird was laughing. One black eye winked at him as a floating sensation came over his body. Harry blinked at that, the same moment Fawkes burst into flames.

The world swirled around him. He shut his eyes at the rush of wind running over his face and raised his hands to his ears as noise began to build up. Harry's stomach began to turn as the sensation began to feel like a portkey, and just before he was ready to release its contents, it all stopped.

He ended up lying on a cold, hard floor. He looked around in the dim light and found nothing but a few distant walls. It was definitely a room and probably at least the size of the great hall, if not larger.

A chirp behind him caught his attention, reminding Harry of his companion. "Fawkes?" he asked as he turned around. "Where did you bring me?"

Lights grew brighter around the huge room, revealing a familiar room. Harry pinched his nose as the smell of rotting flesh reached him. The basilisk's carcass lay twenty feet from him, its mouth partially opened to reveal the intact fang. He turned around and spotted the ink-covered fang that had pierced his arm two years - and twenty five years - ago.

Harry had the awful feeling that this was going to give him migraines trying to keep it all straight.

A chirp from Fawkes brought his attention back to the phoenix perched on the statue of Slytherin's head. He had the strange feeling the bird wanted him to go into the basilisk's lair, which Harry wasn't too sure about. There was another chirp as Fawkes took flight and soared into the dark opening that made up the statue's mouth. Taking a deep breath, Harry followed him in.

Lights began to flare up just before it became too dark to see anything. The mouth turned out to be a short tunnel, leading into a room that was half the size of the chamber he'd just left. Harry figured it was big enough for the basilisk to move about, before the scariness of that thought made him change the direction of his mind. He found there was another tunnel opposite of where he'd come in, with fresh air flowing in a soft breeze.

"I wonder if that goes into the forest or somewhere else," he muttered in a low voice.

Fawkes chirped again, in what Harry guessed was an affirmative answer. Maybe he was getting the hang of communicating with the phoenix. He'd always been able to guess what an owl was trying to get - with the exception of Pig, but that was a whole other story. A nod at the phoenix brought another chirp.

"I do wish there was another way to talk to you," Harry complained after a few seconds.

He stumbled back when the air around the phoenix shimmered before a small pop sounded, with a dark-haired man replacing Fawkes. "We could talk like this," the man said in a deep voice.

Harry stumbled back at the appearance of the man. "What? Who the hell are you?"

The man chuckled. "I'm Fawkes, of course." He grinned. "Well, that is what Albus decided to call me after I found him."

"But-?" Harry was confounded, as he'd never heard of anyone being a magical animagus. Wait. He was in a time where Voldemort was around again. He whipped out his wand and pointed it at the man. "Are you one of Voldemort's men?" he asked in as stern a voice as he could manage, in spite of the slight crack in it.

The man gave a full out laugh. "Oh no, Harry. A phoenix is always aligned with the light, even one who is an animagus." The man's brown eyes gave off the same twinkling Dumbledore's did when Harry had seen him laugh. "Besides, I try not to meddle in the affairs of humans too much. I did enough of that when I was still a wizard."

Harry blinked and slowly lowered his wand at that. He was rather confused by this entire situation. After all, he was in the Chamber of Secrets with a man who had, two minutes before, been Fawkes. Who was a phoenix. "Um, wizard?"

The man's laughter was directed at Harry's incredulousness. "Of course! You didn't think that someone who didn't have magic could become an animagus?"

He felt himself shaking his head in answer. Merlin, this was confusing. This morning he'd left his house - an empty house without his children and in spite of his wife's presence - gone to work, been killed by a den of thieves, woken up by a boy he'd seen murdered, and now he was deep beneath Hogwarts with a man who thought he had a funny bone. Maybe a man; after all, he'd just been a bird ten minutes ago. "Who-who are you?" he finally asked.

He received an elaborate bow. "Salazar Slytherin at your service."

Harry gripped at the wall to keep himself upright at the news.

"Now," the man - Slytherin - exclaimed, "I know you're thinking that I'm the 'Evil' Founder and that I hate so-called 'Mudbloods,' but really, do you think I could do that and still be a phoenix animagus?" He sighed as he directly into Harry's eyes, and his whole demeanor relaxed. "I am sorry to drop this whole thing on you like this, but I have to explain the situation to you, and this is the best time to do so."

Slytherin stepped back and withdrew a wand from his left sleeve, sweeping it parallel to the floor and cleaning the stone. Next he twirled it slightly, conjuring up two comfy looking chairs and a small table set for tea. The smell of steeping leaves came to Harry's nose, along with the aroma of freshly baked scones. The other man grinned at Harry. "We might as well make ourselves comfortable. This is going to take quite a bit of time."

******

Harry sat back in the chair as he thought about everything they had talked about. First, Slytherin had told him that yes, he'd had issues with the Muggles and therefore with Muggleborn students. That had been because of their religious beliefs, and he'd had the feeling that their religion would subvert his own. He'd been right, of course, but unable to do anything about it as each of the other Founders had converted.

Slytherin had left the school to protect both himself and his family, something his own son hadn't forgiven him for. The son, also named Salazar, had tried to kill him. In an act of desperation, he had changed into his phoenix form for the first time. As such, he was able to be reborn from the killing curse sent at him, but wasn't healthy enough to stop his son from taking his place.

Harry had felt for the man as he told his story, as it began to coincide with everything that he'd heard about Slytherin as told by Hermione. It had been at the point of Godric's death at the hands of his son that Harry had asked Slytherin about the time difference.

_"Didn't you know, Harry?" Slytherin asked. "I am the same type of wizard as you. We are the Chosen ones - Magic's Chosen ones. Time doesn't mean anything to a Chosen one. We have the ability to go back and change things."_

_"Why didn't you go back, then?" Harry asked._

_Slytherin sighed. "I did. The entire thing ended in the revelation of our world to the Muggles in the 1950s. It wasn't the correct time for such a thing to happen, and humanity paid the ultimate price for it. Their nuclear weapons tried to wipe out those who had magic, not realizing that we are the balance that holds the world together. In the end, I went back a second time and put it all back._

_"Now you have the same chance, Harry. It's almost time for me to finally rest." Slytherin sighed deeply. "I have been doing this for three thousand years, and I am looking forward to it ending. I am not entirely sure of what you have done, as your powers are greater than mine at the moment, but I will help you in what I can."_

From there, Slytherin had gone on to describe the effects of time. Most of all, he'd stated, was that some things must happen. The second thing to remember was that he could only go back a finite number of times. Slytherin had found himself stuck at twenty times, although he said that _his_ mentor had been able to go back fifty. Of course, the other man said, his mentor had been Magic's Chosen for five millennia.

Harry tried to imagine living that long and couldn't wrap his head around it. It brought to mind, however, the fact that he would be able to see his children for a long time. Sadness welled deep in his chest, enough that he had to ask.

"What about my children?" he asked with a thick voice. "Will I still have them? Do I-?" He cut himself off. He had once loved Ginny, but their marriage had been a sham after Lily was born. Harry shivered at the thought of having to live like that. He loved his children, but his heart wouldn't be able to do that twice.

Slytherin eyed him for a moment before answering. "Children have that effect on anyone, Harry, even Chosen ones. I loved Salazar, but I couldn't help him. You should know that my other children turned out fine, no matter what I did. Salazar was one of the things that I couldn't change, in spite of who his other parent was; and yes, I was married to three different partners."

The tension that had been growing in his chest loosened, like some giant rubber band being released. He stood and stretched in relief.

Slytherin chuckled, and again, it felt like he was laughing at Harry, but this time it didn't seem to be in a slightly condescending way - more like George after he pulled a prank.

He sat down hard onto the stone floor - startled by the realization that Fred was still alive. _Sirius was still alive!_ Tears poured from his eyes as thoughts of all those who had died ran through his head. Lupin, Tonks... _Hedwig. Dobby. Even Snape._ They were all _alive._

In that instant, the onus of being Chosen hit him, and he welcomed the darkness that overtook him.

When he awoke, he found himself back in the dorm. The curtains were pulled across, but Harry could tell that it was night, judging by the snores coming from both the bed next to his and across the room. It was a somewhat comforting sound, because it meant that he was alive. On the other hand, he had a lot to do. A rustle met his ears as he sat up. Reaching his hand out, he found a pile of parchment tucked neatly under his pillow. The parchment was stiff, like the older books he had read in the library when he'd finally decided to sit the NEWTs.

Damn, but he had to go through both those and the OWLs all over again. Well, there was one negative thing about this entire situation. He was certain there would be more, but he'd deal with them when they came.

Harry had determined that he would make the best of this entire thing as well as he could. He would take it one day at a time, starting with reading the letter.

_Harry,_

_You may have some more questions for me, but now is not the time. For all the powers of the world, even we cannot stretch time, and you needed the rest. I will meet up with you before the third task, as I have the feeling that you will be changing some things about that event - and yes, I did go back in time when you did, and I will tell you how when we talk._

_For now, there are several things you can do. I know that you will begin searching for Voldemort's Horcruxes, but think carefully about going after them. You probably had a couple of problems reaching a few, so take care of the ones you currently have access to. One thing, however, must be clear - Voldemort has to come back the night of the third task. If you've already realized that, you may be more Slytherin than I thought you were. If you weren't, then you really are in trouble, because Godric was always in trouble._

_When we meet, I will help you with any details about the upcoming event, but most of it must be done by you. My mentor helped me with the first task I had to change, but everything after that is a solo job. After the third task, I will be unable to help you, so I will help you as much as possible with this._

_A thousand years ago, I would have been fine with throwing you into the lake and seeing if you could swim. Now, I can see why you have been Chosen, for I see the same things in you that I prided myself as having. Slytherin House originally stood for cunning and ambition, as the Sorting Hat likes to remind people. I would like for you to help return my House to its former glory. I know that you will take care of its biggest detractor, but I wish for you to help more than that. That doesn't mean for you to give up your Gryffindor tendencies - I have the feeling it would be like trying to change a lion into a wolf, which is Not A Thing To Be Done._

_For that, I suggest that you speak with my current Head of House. I understand that there is a _very _mutual dislike in your relationship with the man, but I will give you a piece of advice: approach him as a Slytherin would. But, if all else fails, hit him over the head and force him to listen, as that approach does seem to work well for anyone. It may help him remember your mother._

_The last thing that I will impart with you in this letter is to begin your animagus training. A Chosen One is always a phoenix, but that doesn't make it any easier to change (if you recall, I was almost killed by my own son to achieve my transformation). There is a book in the Restricted Section that deals with a magical animagus form, although it is presented as a myth and the author does not recommend for anyone to try it. Ignore that and follow the rest of his instructions. It will take you some time to change, but it is much easier to see what needs to be changed through the eyes of a phoenix._

_Regards,  
__Slytherin  
__RoR, 23.5, 2300_

Harry puzzled over the last bit before he realized it was the information for their meeting. He shook his head at his own stupidity.

Reading back through the letter, he wondered just how he should approach Snape. It was true that he had hated the man all through his school years, but time had softened the memories enough that he could distance himself. The line about his mother triggered something, and a sly smile formed. Oh, he understood what Slytherin was saying about now. The only thing Harry had to figure out was to try and find a way to hid it until the most opporune moment to unleash his Slytherin side.

As to the Horcruxes, he had several ideas on how to get the ones he couldn't get to at the moment - specifically, Hufflepuff's cup. If it was anything like the diary, Voldemort would have given it to Bellatrix long before she went to Azkaban. He would just have to come up with a way to gain entry into her vault without the judicious use of dragons and traitorous goblins. Griphook's betrayal had wound Harry up the wrong way, and it had taken a long time before he'd begun to trust another goblin with his money or anything else.

If he wasn't able to get Pettigrew in the graveyard, which was a torturous task within itself that Harry was not looking forward to, he would need to come up with a way to get around Umbridge's attempt to get him expelled later in the summer. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone if that happened, by going after the ring (and thereby getting the stone) and avoiding the Dementors altogether.

Another sly smile appeared on his face at the thought of outwitting the entire Ministry if he was caught out. He'd just have to implement the things he'd already done that much sooner. It wouldn't take ten years to rebuild the Ministry, this time. No, Harry would pull out the big guns to change things so that they ran the correct way, and not just the way it had always run - that was one reason why Voldemort had come into power in the first place. In fact, he was very tempted to do so, even if things went the way he wanted them.

A hoot broke his thoughts, and he turned to see a snowy owl sitting on the headboard. Harry blinked tears from his eyes. Over the course of the war, he'd seen several people die, but there had been one innocent who hadn't deserved to die like Hedwig had. Now here she was, sitting there and watching him with the big, golden eyes.

The tears broke free as he realized the enormity of what he had to do. As he cried, one thing reverberated in his head: he truly was willing to die all over again for this to work.

******

"Hey, mate," Ron greeted him the next morning. "You okay? You left before I woke up." The red head sat next to him at the Gryffindor table, already spooning food onto his plate.

Harry shook his head before answering. "I'm fine. I just had some things to do this morning. I got a lot of information from last night's meeting."

"How did that go, Harry?" Hermione asked as she sat down, setting the large pile of books in her arms on the table. It was obvious that she'd just been to the library - a place that Harry feared on Sunday mornings like today.

"Fine." Harry really didn't want to elaborate, because he frankly couldn't remember what went on with it. For him, it was two decades plus for him. The meeting he had been in last night, he wouldn't ever tell his friends the contents of it.

"What did they say?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head, but put a smile on his face. Hermione really wasn't different at any age, he realized. True, she had toned her bossiness down as she had gotten older, but she had the forthrightness to boldy ask questions no Ravenclaw would dare to ask. She just seemed so young. Ron, too, but he'd always acted younger than his age the older they had grown. He mentally shook himself at the expectant looks being directed at him. He looked down at his hands, trying to come up with a way to tell them something he couldn't remember.

"Hey, Potter?"

He looked up at Cedric as the Hufflepuff walked towards his seat. "Yes?"

Grey eyes stared into his own green ones for a moment. "Can I talk to you? For a moment?"

Harry glanced back at his friends before nodding. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" was directed at the two still seated.

Following the sixth year, he wondered what Cedric had to say. A minute later, Harry was directed into a small, disused classroom on the second floor. Once in, Cedric's movements indicated his nervousness.

"What did you want to talk about?" Harry asked when it became apparent that Cedric wasn't going to start talking.

"Are you okay? I mean, from last night?" The questions came out at a fast speed. He ducked his head and shook it before looking back up at Harry. "What I wanted to know, is if you had a vision or something like that."

"What?" He was confused.

Cedric looked at him. "You were saying some very strange things last night, and I was wondering if I should keep quiet about it. I mean, I didn't think you were a Seer."

"What was I saying?" He had a bad feeling about this, and what he was told confirmed it.

"You said," Cedric paused and took a deep breath. "You said that you had to stop me from dying."

Harry looked up at the anguish in the seventeen year old's voice. Cedric looked to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and he was clueless as to what to do. Harry had conquered his own mortality more than twenty years ago, but the boy in front of him had just been confronted by it and was understandably confused and frightened by it. Plunging in as he did when he was first confronted by Teddy's nightmares of being abandoned once James had been born, Harry tentatively touched Cedric's arm before leading him over to a desk with a firmer grip.

Cedric looked up at him, obviously trying to keep his tears in check. "Is it true?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think of how to respond to it. Did he use the ruse of being a Seer? He really didn't want to do that, because of the things that _would_ change and the fact that after they did so, he wouldn't know what was coming.

Harry opened his eyes to see that Cedric had taken that the wrong way, as tears began to fall down his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, he laid his hand on Cedric's arm once more before taking the older boy into his arms, as if he were James or Al.

Cedric fell into the embrace, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

"Maybe we can change it, Cedric," Harry whispered into the other boy's hair. "I promise you that I'll try my hardest to change it."


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Runestones  
Author: Qellaswe  
Pairings: HP/TBA, brief RL/NT, RW/HG  
Warnings: character death, slash  
Spoilers: THROUGH DEATHLY HALLOWS! Even the epilogue, much as I didn't like it.  
Summary: After being attacked and fatally wounded, Harry rashly wishes he could go back in time and change some things. When his wish is granted, he finds that some things can't be changed. To cope with them, Harry takes up a new hobby.  
Disclaimer: (Since I forgot it in the first chapter) I don't own much of anything you may recognize from any published work. Just the plot is mine.  
AN: I am so sorry for this taking almost three months to complete. Snape was being very stubborn and wouldn't cooperate, and RL was very cruel in January; I had to make some major decisions because of that. Within the next three weeks, I'll let you know what I came up with. Regardless of that, I hope to have chapter three up within the next week. We'll see how Snape wants to behave.

_Runestones 2_

******

_Dagaz_

_This particular rune designates the start of something new. One can use the rune in several different ways, from considering it a 'good luck' charm, to making a fresh start. In terms of mysticism, Dagaz is used for inspiration, spiritual advancement, and understanding the mysteries of life and the universe._

_Dagaz is the rune most associated with the concept of universal love and acceptance, thus making it a useful tool in changing the attitudes of either the user or someone else._

******

Harry somehow managed to get through most of the month until his next meeting with Salazar, all the while trying to come up with a way to speak to Snape. The first time he'd seen the man, he had been taken back to the Shrieking Shack. Harry had been snapped out of his daze by the sneering man as he took points from Gryffindor.

He had the feeling that Hermione was suspicious of his behavior, but at this point he wasn't sure what to do about that. He had found himself struggling with some of the spells they were being taught in class. Hell, it had been almost thirty years since he'd done some of these spells, so it wasn't hard to believe that he would forget how to do them. For his part, Harry wished they could just skip to sixth year, when they learned the more practical uses for Transfiguration and Charms.

The nicest parts of this month were when he met up with Cedric in the library. Harry wished he'd thought of truly befriending the Hufflepuff the first time around. Cedric's uncharacteristic sarcastic streak - for a Hufflepuff, anyway - was genuinely funny. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so freely - at least, when not around his children.

Harry sighed at the thought as he pulled his books around him. It seemed like every time he thought about the future, he lost all concentration about what he was currently doing. Thoughts such as those were constantly running through the back of his mind. Even in his dreams, Harry would see his children as they were the last time he saw them and then as they morphed into strangers, leaving him behind.

On top of everything, the one person he needed to talk to was the one who was the most unapproachable. If it had been his fifth year, Harry would have had one of the Occlumency lessons to get Snape alone, but this year it was utterly impossible to do so without the man getting so suspicious; Snape would never listen to what Harry had to say.

One thing he'd been able to accomplish was to read up on Gringotts' bylaws and figure out that he _could_ get into Bellatrix's vault without having to use a dragon to get back out of the bank. As Sirius' heir, he would be able to access Bellatrix's vault for the simple reason that it had been part of her dowry and, as such, was a part of Black property. Sure, it would take several forms in triplicate, but he would be able to take care of it sometime in the first week of summer. The sooner the better, before Voldemort grew used to his new body. Frankly, it was almost too easy just how he could have accomplished getting that particular horcrux if he'd had the information he now knew.

That wasn't to say that he wasn't going to be busy that first week. If it followed what had happened last time - at least as far as Dumbledore having the Order watch his house - he would need to wait until Mundungus Fletcher was on watch to slip away. There was always the case that it would be different, but he would have to make plans as he went. Already the future was diverging from the one he knew, but it was so subtle that Harry was having a hard time in deciding what he should or shouldn't do next.

At least his animagus training was going better than expected. Despite Hermione's curiousity and, if he had to admit it, Ron's as well, Harry had managed to read the book Salazar had recommended he read. It was the practice that was giving him problems, as Harry had a hard time finding time alone without raising anyone's suspicions. Fortunately, he'd been able to get away this afternoon, as Hermione was in the library and Ron was sulking about the latest prank that Fred and George had unleashed on him.

A soft knock on the window startled him out of his thoughts. Raising his head, he found Hedwig tapping at the window. Harry found that he was happy that he'd found this abandoned classroom to use to study, because Madame Pince would not have been amused at Hedwig trying to deliver a letter in the library. Hermione would probably cause more of a problem than even Madame Pince because of the disruption to her studies (as she'd done to the twins in the incident that had led to Ron's sulking). As much as he loved her, he'd forgotten what she had been like when exam time had come round.

With a couple of long strokes along Hedwig's feathers, he took his letter and sent the owl off for a well-deserved rest in the Owlery. He'd sent off his letter a couple of days ago and had started to worry about the wait. No sense in waiting any more, though.

Scanning the contents, Harry felt a wide grin stretching his lips. Quite a few of his current plans had hinged on the results of this letter. _Hermione is going to kill me when she finds out I've already taken the OWLs,_ he thought, _but this is the best way to accomplish everything I need. I need to be 'of-age' in order to get rid of Umbridge, and the quickest way to do that is to take the OWLs and emancipate myself. As it is, she'll be kept busy for a couple of days after she finds out, looking up those two laws._

Harry snickered to himself at some of the other obscure laws he was going to be using. The Ministry had some truly outlandish laws - as well as some very harmful ones in the hands of Malfoy Senior and the like - that he was going to manipulate. Over the years, he'd found many uses for what Ron had called his Slytherin side. It had first appeared during Auror training, when his instructors had encouraged him to develop it more fully. His use of that 'side' had been that little _extra_ which had made him such a good Auror. He had been able to allow his instincts free reign when going over case details, picking out things that someone who didn't think like a Slytherin would miss.

Harry knew he would have to be careful with the Slytherin side to his personality. He had come up with several ways to humiliate Malfoy, Snape, and several others just because he _could._ Resisting those temptations had been hard.

His snickers turned into a grin that would have earned him a top-villian rating on the cover of the _Daily Prophet_ again. Pettigrew would be helping his master back like he had, all right, but he would be coming back with Harry on the return trip with the Cup. With the five laws he'd found, Harry had plans for his parents' betrayer.

Mentally rubbing his hands together, Harry turned back to his Transfiguration homework and tried to figure out a way to dumb down his answer. Sometimes it sucked being this young again.

******

Sitting through DADA was terribly boring, although Crouch was doing a passible job, despite being a Death Eater and all.

Harry loved the irony of that statement every time he sat through class. He _was_ rather bored with it all. He had been Lead Auror for seven years and had been slated to become the head of the department when Andrews retired. So, to pass the time, he'd come up with interesting ways to expose the Death Eater who was currently masquerading as Mad-Eye Moody without letting anyone know that it was Harry Potter doing anything.

Oh, that reminded him of something else he needed to do. Harry made a mental note to check into the _Daily Prophet_, to see what he could dig up on Rita Skeeter without having to resort to kidnapping her in her animagus form. In the old future, she had eventually registered herself, whereupon she'd once again started a vicious campaign about Harry and his friends. True, she hadn't written down her markings, having used the excuse, once she was caught, that she couldn't exactly look at herself, now could she? Harry had wondered at those who had believed such a bald-faced lie, when the woman obviously spent hours in front of a mirror a day, to put on that much make-up.

All of that led to the problem of Malfoy and his goons, who were currently supplying Rita with some 'juicy' gossip. The blond was still a spoiled brat, far from the boy who hadn't wanted to be one of Voldemort's Death Eaters once he was marked. Harry would have to find some way to sway Malfoy closer to the Light - Draco had told Harry, when Al and Scorpius had become friends, that he had rather liked playing the villain many had believed him to be, as he'd gotten a lot more girls. Harry had found that to be hilarious, and they had formed a tentative acquaintance not shared by their wives. Then again, Malfoy had sent him Dobby to warn him about the diary all those years ago, so there may be a good chance they could at least come up with a truce before leaving for the summer.

"Potter!"

He jumped at 'Moody's' shout. Harry blinked to find the entire class staring at him, a light blue shell of magic surrounding him.

"That's what I'm talking about, class," Crouch said, obviously continuing his lecture, although his magical eye kept its attention on Harry as he moved towards the front of the room. "Potter's magical defense is instinctual, and that's what you need to accomplish."

"How did you do that, Harry?" Hermione asked as they made their way out of the classroom and to the Great Hall for dinner.

He shrugged, not having any way of explaining that his mind was a little over forty, and his magic had had thirty years to instinctively protect him even if he were unconscious. Harry also wasn't about to mention the fact that only she and three other people were keyed into it and that anyone else would get shocked if they touched it.

"It was probably something you read for the Tournament, right, mate?" Ron asked, his mouth only partially filled with chewed food. The red head ignored Hermione's admonishment to not talk with his mouth full. "You've really picked up the pace on different spells since that meeting. You'll need it, too, going up against those three." His face darkened. "Especially Vicky."

Trying to ignore the argument that started between his two friends at that remark, Harry thought about Krum and the role he played in the blasted tournament. The star Seeker of Bulgaria had been under the _Imperius_ curse for most of the Third Task. Maybe there was a way to break that up, saving Krum the humiliation he must have felt when he had been released from the curse.

It was only one of about a million questions Harry wanted to ask Salazar when they met in four days.

******

_Dear Harry,_

_I was rather surprised to find your owl waiting to deliver your letter this morning - she is rather persistent, is she not? - though it was rather good to hear from you. I hope that your studies are going well, and that you are prepared for the third task. It was rather shocking to find that you had been entered in the Tournament, but I am sure that you will do fine. I know that I am proud of how well you performed in the first two tasks, so I am confident you can win the tournament._

_As to your question, I am not sure if our mutual friend has been to his house yet. He most likely will not return there unless there is no other recourse. I know that he hated the place when we were younger, and I doubt that will have changed despite the fact that he is the last of the family. I will, though, ask him the next time that I see him. For you, I suspect he would attempt to visit._

_Sincerely,_

_Remus Lupin_

******

_Mr. Potter,_

_I wasn't aware of our distant familial connection until I received your letter. I myself researched what you found and I will confirm that it is true. I will also admit that I was skeptical about the information, given what has lately been published in_ The Daily Prophet. _I apologise up front for that._

_I must confess that I don't truly have what you are looking for. Yes, I created it and kept it this past century. However, it was caught in the destruction of the Great War and ended in several pieces. I have not been able to piece it back together into something workable._

_As you request it, I will send the pieces to you, though I don't expect you to be able to put it back together._

_Sincerely,_

_Griffen White_

******

Snape prowled the aisles of the classroom, gazing into each student's cauldron. Even on the other side of the room, Harry could feel his intent of finding _something_ wrong with Dean's potion. He mentally shook his head and turned his attention back to his own potion. It was almost at the stage he needed it to be; one minute more and it would blow in a rather spectacular way.

Potions had never been his best subject, but he was definitely going to use it his advantage. James had blown up this particular potion no less than fifteen times trying to get it right, so it was just a matter of picking how Harry wanted it to go.

"Potter!" Snape was yelling as the yellow smoke cloud hovered over the cauldron, the pungent sulfur smell causing everyone in the vicinity to cover their mouths and noses. "Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention tonight with me."

Harry mentally sighed in relief, even as he acknowledged Ron's half-hearted attempt to cheer him up over the detention. The relief turned into worry when he noticed a calculating gleam in Hermione's eyes. He'd have to tell her something, because she was definitely suspicious, and that was one thing he didn't need.

He needed to do something about it, but first he had to deal with Snape. Frankly, he was terrified that it would make this entire situation worse. Still, he'd try his very best. And if it didn't, Harry had magic - and that little piece of interesting blackmail - on his side.

"Potter, get in here," Snape snarled as he opened the door to the classroom later that evening. "There are fifteen cauldrons over there that I want spotless before you leave." Black eyes glittered at him with a dangerous glint. "I know that was deliberate, Potter. Even you aren't that stupid."

Harry rolled his eyes as the potions master turned and headed towards his desk. They may have been raised in different households, but you could tell that Snape and Aunt Petunia had been raised in the same neighborhood. There was a bitterness about them both that originated in the town that had cost Harry's grandparents their lives. At least, that was the case when he'd finally gotten the truth out of his aunt about her and his mother's parents.

Ten cauldrons later, he'd finally had enough. He reflected that it had been a lucky chance, the night the dementors had tried to eat his and Dudley's souls, when he'd found he could use his wand even when it wasn't in his hand, as a quick swish of his arm cleaned the remaining five. He needed to talk to Snape (and didn't want to explain his wandless magic).

"Potter! Was that magic?" Snape was thundering past his desk towards the sinks, wand out and fierce scowl on his face.

_Forget hiding wandless magic,_ he thought. Harry waved his arm towards the angry man, sending Snape into a nearby chair. The man looked startled for the briefest of moments before he stood - or, rather, tried to stand.

"Let me up this instant, Potter, and you'll only be expelled instead of dead."

Something washed over Harry and he was powerless to stop it. "No," he ground out from behind his teeth. "I've wanted to tell this to you for the last thirty years and I will have my say."

Snape opened his mouth, but Harry beat him to it and silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"I doubt you have any consideration just how hard you make it on students, regardless of the fact that you have to make it seem as if you are on Voldemort's side if he might return - which, I assure you, will be in a little more than a month. Your fawning over the Slytherins doesn't do them any good, and they will have a hard time finding any sort of happiness once Voldemort is truly dead. I can't say that I really had the pleasure of watching this, because they tended to hide it all away until it was too late.

"You are a selfish creature, Severus Snape, whose spying cost twelve Slytherins their lives in a peaceful time, because they couldn't ask for the help they needed. I understand that you walk a fine line between the two sides of the upcoming conflict, but you had an entire generation's Slytherins depending on you to guide them into what it took to _be_ Slytherin."

Harry glared at the silent and bound man, and the black eyes widened at the look.

"It's been maddening, this last month. I can't turn a corridor without seeing someone I've seen dead acting like the normal teenager I don't remember them being. Hell, it scares me every time I see Lavender without those awful marks on her face. Tell me, Severus, what makes a grown man believe that he is an animal? Greyback was an awful man, and I was glad that he was dead, but he's not in this time, is he?"

He was too far into his long-overdue rant to appreciate the bewildered expression on the potions master's face. Harry needed to get this out, and if Snape wanted to expel him, he really didn't need the education from here. There were several schools he could go to outside of Europe. He needed to be here to help the war effort, and, if Snape proceeded with expelling him, Harry would play his trumph card.

"I was perfectly happy where I was... No, I take that back. I was mostly happy when I was, because, even now, I miss my children with all that I am. Their mother is a different story, but now is not the time to get into that.

"No, this is about you, Severus Snape, who has enough hate for ten people. Yes, you hated my father, but I never got to know him. You still hated me, just because I look like him. Well, let me tell you something that I doubt anyone has ever told you before in this manner: GROW UP!"

He took a deep breath as he reined himself in. If he continued yelling, it might catch a passing Slytherin's attention. Besides, he was straying from his point, and if he didn't get to it now, he probably never would.

"I know that you knew my mother growing up - and maybe you were a little in love with her - but I'm not going to call on you with that." He took satisfaction in the widening of Snape's eyes. "No, I want you to tackle this on like the Slytherin I know you are."

He finally sat down, feeling the reassuring coolness of the runestone - now a pendant hung on a bit of cording - nestle into the hollow of his throat. If the stone worked at it should, he would have a decent chance of making it through the meeting with his life and limbs.

******

"I find myself admitting that I am rather impressed with you, Mr. Potter."

Harry turned to look at Snape. Once freed, the man had been rather quiet - far different from how Harry was expecting him to react. He'd rather suspected that the man would curse him multiple times before running off to Dumbledore to have him expelled.

"Impressed?" he asked.

For only the second time, the dark eyes were not looking at Harry with malice. Of course, the first time was when Harry watched the poor man bleed out onto the dirty floor of the Shrieking Shack, so it made this time much better than that. A tension that he hadn't even known he was feeling was released with the look.

"I find that your actions are more similar to how your mother would have acted in the same situation. Although how you would do so after being raised with Petunia, I do not know how you've managed to stay sane enough."

Harry smirked at the insult to his aunt, amused at he and the man's mutual dislike of the woman. "I doubt Aunt Petunia would know how to confront anyone, with her backstabbing qualities," he muttered before straightening in his chair. "She'd rather go behind their back and spout the nastiest gossip and lies she could ever think of."

Snape looked startled at this observation before his lips quirked the tiniest bit. "Very true, Mr. Potter." The man quickly sobered. "You will explain -"

"Everything?" Harry finished. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before focusing on the other. "I was planning on doing exactly that."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Runestones  
Author: Qellaswe  
Pairings: HP/TBA, SB+RL+SS(triad), brief RL/NT, RW/HG  
Warnings: character death, slash  
Spoilers: THROUGH DEATHLY HALLOWS! Even the epilogue, much as I didn't like it.  
Summary: After being attacked and fatally wounded, Harry rashly wishes he could go back in time and change some things. When his wish is granted, he finds that some things can't be changed. To cope with them, Harry takes up a new hobby.  
AN: Finally, huh? I was finally able to get this chapter up. Between computers dying and getting sick, I didn't think that I'd be able to get this thing up. I also have chapter 4 almost ready to go, so it should only take as long as it takes me to get internet access again. I have more information on what's been going on about the wait on my profile, so if you want to check it out, please do so.  
I hope everyone had a safe and happy holiday, and hope you all have a good new year! Happy reading!

* * *

Ron was snoring into his pillow when Harry scanned the room to see if any of the others were awake. They shouldn't be, at two in the morning, but one could never tell. Seamus could be having one of his infamous wet dreams - the kind that usually woke Harry and Neville up, since they were such light sleepers. Dean was impossible to wake up during the night, so it just left Neville to observe before Harry left the dorm.

With all signs clear - judging from the book covered in vines hanging limply from Neville's hand - Harry carefully made his way down the stairs. Once down in the common room, he quickly glanced around for anyone still up. Luckily for him, Hermione wasn't still up. If she had, he would be in some questioning.

Harry shouldn't be afraid of his friend, but, he had to confess, he'd always been intimidated by her intelligence. Even now, when his mind was so much older than hers, he didn't want her to get so curious as to find out what's going on.

He was trying to work from the shadows, but curious cats usually let things out of the bag.

Once out of the tower, Harry made his way down to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. There he found an impatient man in black, scowling at him for his lateness. On the man's shoulder stood a phoenix, who was trying to hold on as the man paced back and forth in rapid strides.

"Sorry," he whispered to the man. He turned to the last sink, but didn't need to see the snake etched on the pipes for him to access the Parseltongue. In his former life, he'd found that he could still speak the language, and, over time, had cultivated it. Ginny had thought it creepy, Hermione had worried that something had been left over from his time as a Horcrux, while Ron and the kids had been entertained whenever he charmed the garden snakes as though they were in a street market in India.

The two men and one bird made their way down the pipe to the Chamber of Secrets, winding through the various rooms until they came upon Slytherin's study, as Harry liked to call it.

"Potter," Snape began in a low voice - the kind of tone that made Firsties piss in their pants. "Why are we down here, and why is this infernal bird clinging to me?"

Harry looked over to Fawkes, who was bobbing his head. If birds could smirk, this one would have been doing just that. "If you would like the honor?"

Snape's brows pinched together as Fawkes spread his wings and floated to the floor. "What...?"

There is nothing so grand in the world as a stunned-looking potions master. It was all Harry could do to keep his laughter in as the phoenix grew into a man with dark hair and glittering eyes. He did his best to hold it in as the other two stared at each other. Snape now had a calculating look in his eyes, while Slytherin was looking bemused at the inspection.

It was all too much, as the laughter burst out, garnering Harry the attention of the other two. He waved a hand at them in apology.

* * *

Harry slid in between the sheets, a headache softly thudding through his skull. It had been a long day, and he was more than ready to go to sleep. He'd spent most of the day in the Chamber with Salazar, working on his animagus form. He was extremely close to getting it, as he been able to produce feathers along both arms.

There was a slight change in his perception - a kind of instinct that had him searching the corridors as he walked to class or the Great Hall. Salazar had told him that phoenix were omnivores. Although they preferred fruits and nuts, they occasionally ate meat. It was this awareness of potential prey that Harry was experiencing.

Tonight, he'd met with Cedric in the library, going over what they would do in the maze. The sixth year was growing increasingly nervous, although he hid it well. Harry decided he wouldn't comment on it unless absolutely necessary. Instead, he'd ignored the behavior and had concentrated on the plan.

He was tempted to capitalize the two words, as the simple plan he had first come up with had grown exponentially. When Salazar had explained all of this to him, Harry had thought that he would be able to get away with changing things slightly - a little nudge here or there. He was very wrong about that. Salazar had told him that he would need to think very carefully on what events to manipulate, and it would take some very careful planning to bring the changes to fruition.

Most of the plan for the Third Task was set. Now, though, he just needed to find a way to expose Barty Crouch posing as Mad-Eye Moody. As much as he wanted to stay up and find something, Harry knew he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

He didn't know when he fell asleep. When the dream had first started, he thought he must still be awake because of all the detail. Harry watched himself confront Moody's imposter in front of an impossibly large crowd, calmly giving reasons on why one of the Ministry's top decorated Aurors was not who he said he was.

The dream was relatively short, probably lasting no longer than five minutes. The impact was humungous, though. Harry shot out of bed the moment he was awake, scrambling to write down everything. He knew that this was very important.

_Sometimes you'll have dreams that seem so real, it's as if you are still awake," Salazar said after a brief lull in the conversation._

_The two of them were seated in front of the fireplace, a small table covered in tea things between their chairs. Harry looked at him for a brief moment, unsure of where the other man was headed. "So, what should I do?"_

_Salazar sighed, and Harry knew that he was exasperated with him. Sure, Harry's mind was that of an adult, but he sometimes thought that Salazar thought that he was dumber than a doorpost. Mentally, Harry rolled his eyes. So what if he wasn't book smart? He'd take his people smarts over that any day, if it meant that he'd live to see his hundred and fiftieth birthday as he was planning._

_"You should write it down, like I've been telling you to do when you think of something. I don't trust a Gryffindor to remember everything you come up with." Salazar obviously couldn't resist the smear against his rival's house. "There are things that you'll want to be able to look at later, to see if you are on the correct track or if you will need to amend your plan."_

_That, Harry could understand. He still didn't like the idea of having a 'dream diary.' It just brought back too many bad memories of his first adventure into the Chamber of Secrets. He'd just have to tough it out, though. He could do that._

* * *

The coolness of the stone felt good as it glided between his fingers. He'd found the runestones good at calming him down. Harry had found another stone, this time on the way back after his conversation with Slytherin and Snape. However, he just didn't have the time to find out which rune was carved into its surface, though he was hoping to be able to do so soon. There was too much to do in such a short amount of time, so it would have to wait.

Maybe it was providence he'd had the first stone, because the confrontation with Snape could have gone much differently. Still, the two had gotten a lot accomplished in a short amount of time.

_Never let it be said that someone who wasn't_ in _Slytherin couldn't be ambitious,_ Harry thought with a smirk. He wondered, for a brief moment, what his life would have been like if he had taken the Sorting Hat's advice and gone into Slytherin. He would have been killed within the first week of school, most likely, but it was a probability that he would have been expelled for killing Malfoy in their first year. A tossup between the two really, and not much of anything to really think about, either.

_"What do you want me to do?"_

It had been too hard to hold back his laughter when he had seen Snape's reaction to who they had gone to meet. Even more telling was the fact that the potions master hadn't said a single word to Harry for the next two days - something that had the entire school buzzing about, for Snape always had something to gripe about Harry.

It had helped that these last three days he had been 'excused' from his classes because of the tournament. He had been able to take the OWLs, although it had surprised the few fifth years who had noticed him. A little persuasion with them and they had promised to keep quiet until the end of the year. Luckily, they were Gryffindors, who all knew how much Hermione would rant about not being able to take the tests, and knew that he wanted to avoid such a confrontation.

Harry felt the tiniest bit guilty for deceiving his friends but, for the most part, he knew that they would always be younger than him - for while it had been maturity in the past, now it was age and maturity. He wouldn't let that get him down this time, as he really couldn't care about the rest of the world. What was important at this junction was keeping everyone he loved safe from the evil that would be rising tonight.

He wasn't sure what was going to happen in that graveyard tonight. Preparing for this had been hard - more than he had expected. So much of what was planned hinged on tonight's events that Harry needed to go right. It made him want to sigh again, but he didn't want Remus to ask if he was alright.

The man showing up had been a surprise. The last time around, only Mrs. Weasley and Bill had shown up to cheer him on when the families had come. This time, though, Remus had come with them and had brought him a note from Sirius. His godfather had written that he was the 'lovable grim hanging out with Hagrid's today - just in case he needed him.

Harry sincerely hoped he didn't need him 'just in case.'

"So," Remus began, interrupting Harry's angsting. "Why does Cedric keep looking over here?"

He turned to find the sixth year looking at him with a nervous expression. It wasn't like he could just tell the truth - that Cedric was afraid he was going to die (and that Harry wasn't going to let that happen). Well, he'd go with some of the truth.

"We've been working together, and I think the situation's really getting to him. I think he's looking to talk with me." Harry stood. "Let me go see what he wants and I'll come back to say 'bye,' since it's almost time to go."

Remus smiled as Mrs. Weasley stood and enveloped Harry in a hug.

"Don't worry about coming back, dear," she reassured him. "We'd better go look for Mr. Weasley and find our seats; he should have arrived from the Ministry by now."

"Good luck, Harry," Bill said as he followed his mother. He stopped for a moment as his mother left the room off the Great Hall where they'd spent the afternoon. "You know, you seem older than you did last summer. It's too bad this thing really made you grow up." Bill came back and held out a hand. "Owl me in a couple of days if you need a big brother to talk to."

Harry swallowed past a lump in his throat and shook Bill's hand. "Thanks."

Remus waited until Bill exited the room before standing. "He's right, you know," he stated in a soft voice. "You seem much more mature than you did at the end of the last school year. I wish this hadn't done this to you."

Harry shrugged. There wasn't a way to explain his 'new-found' maturity without taking a lot of time he didn't have. It would have to wait for a more appropriate time.

"Thanks, for what it's worth," he said as they said their goodbyes. Harry watched him leave, finding that Cedric's parents were following the graying man.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked as he felt Cedric come to stand by him.

The sixth year shook his head. "Not really."

Harry gave the most reassuring smile he could to the Hufflepuff. "The trick, Cedric, is that you go into a situation knowing that you'll come out alive on the other side."

"Is that the Gryffindor way?" Cedric asked as they slowly made their way to the maze built on the Quidditch pitch, lagging behind the other two champions.

He shook his head. "No. That's the Harry Potter way. The Gryffindor way is to jump in with two feet and hope for glory."

Cedric looked at him in surprise. "That's a Slytherin way to look at it."

Harry laughed. "You have to think in the same manner as the villain in order to beat him. That's how I've survived him all of these years." He turned to look Cedric fully in the eye as they stood in front of the door that led onto the pitch. "I'll tell you something that I've only told the Headmaster" - in this time, at least - "is that the Sorting Hat wanted me in Slytherin."

"Really?" The Hufflepuff looked stunned. "But, how did you end up in Gryffindor?"

"Because I made the choice not to be in Slytherin. I may think like a Slytherin, but I have a set of Gryffindor morals to temper those thoughts. Likewise, any tendency to act like a total moron is tempered by my sly thoughts."

The sixth year thought on that for a moment. "It's why Granger's a Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw."

"Or why you're in Hufflepuff instead of Gryffindor."

Cedric grinned. "I got it. So, I am brave like a Gryffindor, but it's my Hufflepuff instincts that will guide me tonight."

Harry nodded as he pushed the door open. "You got it."

* * *

Harry let himself get caught by the acromantula. He could have avoided it - just like all of the other obstacles that had blocked his path - but he didn't want 'Moody' to get too suspicious. It was bad enough that Krum had almost gotten caught by the imposter's Imperius curse. Luckily, he had still been fighting it when Harry had come upon him and Cedric.

Fleur had already sent up red sparks, as had happened the first time Harry had done the Third Task. Krum had dropped out as well, after the Imperius incident. The Seeker had been exhausted after his internal fight. As per their plans, Cedric would raise his own sparks when Harry entered the center of the maze and had almost reached the cup when the acromantula would go towards the Hufflepuff.

A sharp pain in his leg brought him back to reality. Damn, he hadn't planned on being bitten again. He quickly subdued the humungous spider, knowing that it was only stunned for a moment, aimed a general healing spell on his calf, and set off towards his goal.

He couldn't let himself get distracted like that again. Too much was riding on this.

* * *

The fog surrounding the graveyard was properly setting the mood, Harry thought as he crept around, in search of Wormtail and his burden. The plan he had set up with Cedric had worked out as perfectly as he hoped it would. The sixth year had just raised his red sparks as Harry touched the cup and activated the portkey. Then he was flying through the space in between the living and the dead. His mastery of death allowed him to see the ghosts as they traveled, their faces lit with surprise and confusion as he waved at them in passing. He'd learned that trick before he'd even married Ginny, and it had stayed with him in spite of being in the past.

Now that he was in the graveyard, though, all of Harry's worries flew out the window. It had been true what he'd said to Cedric - that it was confidence that he was doing things correctly that got Harry through things. Several things would come out of this as he had planned, he knew, even if everything wouldn't go that way.

"Bind him, Wormtail," hissed a voice off to the right. "Take his wand."

Harry had just enough time to look over and see the traitor holding a large bundle before ropes shot out of the yew wand held in a hand with only three fingers.

He was set in front of a tombstone, like before, but this time he couldn't read the name on it. Instead of contemplating that, he focused on what Wormtail was doing as he finished getting the potion ready. Maybe it was different this time, but Harry could see how nervous the man was as he put the last of the non-reactive ingredients in the large cauldron. Suddenly, the fire underneath the cauldron was extinguished, and Harry knew that it was Showtime.

* * *

AN2: Was it worth the wait? Let me know!  
Q


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